


Another Week of Dwalin/Ori

by charliechick117



Series: Dwori Week [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-02-19 11:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2387033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charliechick117/pseuds/charliechick117
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>7 AUs for Dwalin and Ori :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mask

**Author's Note:**

> So remember that Week of Dwalin/Ori that happened a year ago?
> 
> They did another one! In March! So it's only a few months late, but I love this pairing, I love this idea, so I am up in that.

Masks were a delight.  Masks were how Ori made his money.  With masquerade balls happening nearly every month, there was always a supply of new customers that wanted new masks, each one more ornate than the last.  Ori adored it.  Dori could have run the little boutique on his own, but if the people wanted masks, then Dori would give them masks.  Ori loved it.

There was a lot to be learned from the masks chosen for masquerade balls.  The fine, upper-class women always chose masks that were elegant in design, but flawless in detail.  A mask that could keep them hidden, but retain their 'natural' beauty.  It had to be the perfect accessory.  Those were easy, sometimes too easy, if Ori was inclined to be honest with himself.  No creativity, those rich folk.

The other prominent mask buyers were those of poor social standing.  Those were interesting masks to create.  Hardly able to afford the cost of materials, Ori would be given a collection of items and asked to create a stunning mask from them.  He had creating masks from extra pasta shavings, from bits of wood and stone, and even teeth (though he didn't dwell on that mask for very long).

Ori had long ago mastered the art of knowing which mask each customer would want.  It was part of why he was in such high demand.  The whole city knew of Ori's talent and hundreds flocked to the door of the boutique, begging for his help.  Thankfully, there was always Nori around to scare off any customers who wouldn't be worth the hassle and Dori scared the rest to behave.

So when a huge, burly man walked through the door, Ori knew exactly what he was working with.

"Who bullied you into here?" Ori asked, walking right up to the customer.

The man practically jumped, nearly upending a display table and pulling down a mannequin at the same time.  Ori tried not to laugh, but seeing this great beast of a man flushed and struggling with his words was something hard not to giggle at.

"Sorry, sorry," the man muttered, hands fluttering helplessly by his sides.  "Um, my brother made me come."

"Big brothers, right?" Ori grinned, trying to put the man at ease.  "I've got two of them, myself.  Bullies, the both of them."

"Yeah... he's having a party since the war's over."

"And you have an obligation to attend, I understand," Ori shrugged.  "You'll be surprised how many come in with those exact same circumstances."

"So you can help me?" his eyes lit up.  Ori liked that.

"Only if you give me your name."

"Dwalin," the man stuck his hand out.  "My name is Dwalin."

"Well, Dwalin, I'm Ori and if you'll follow me, I can help you find a mask perfectly suited to your needs."

Dwalin let out a deep breath and Ori led him to the mask portion of the store.  He explained that the store was Dori's, but the corner that dealt with masks was Ori's own, special spot, and any money spent there was Ori's to do with what he wished.  Dwalin nodded as Ori talked about choosing a mask, he fabric, colors and decorations.  He humbly accepted every suggested Ori gave, much to Ori's giddy delight.

With the promise of a fitting appointment in two weeks time, Ori waved Dwalin away with a smile.

His brothers said absolutely nothing about it.  Both Dori and Nori had their share of interests with customers, it came with running a clothing store.  They felt as though they'd kept Ori a well hidden secret, something that was so clearly 'off limits' that no one would dare attempt a relationship with him.  But they knew that Ori was stubborn and if he saw something he liked, nothing would get in his way.

Especially not two, overbearing, older brothers.

When Dwalin showed up two weeks later, Ori had already threatened both Dori and Nori with dismemberment and public humiliation should this appointment go awry.  He couldn't say why he found Dwalin to be attractive and interesting, but he knew that he did.  Ori couldn't wait to see him again.

The moment he stepped into the boutique, Ori instantly felt his day grow brighter.  Dwalin, still awkward and bumbling, wandered over to Ori, his face flushed and hands twisted around his hat.

"It's good to see you again, Ori," Dwalin bowed his head gently.

"Likewise," Ori couldn't stop the brilliant grin that was spreading across his face.  "Would you like to see it?"

Dwalin nodded so quickly, Ori feared his neck would snap off.  The mask was a thing of brilliance, if Ori could be allowed to compliment himself.  It was made of black velvet with scarlet stitching hemming the edges.  Small fire opals decorated the mask in the illusion of galaxies beyond their own.  It was simple, but elegant, one of Ori's many calling cards.  With extreme reverence, Ori handed it over.  Dwalin took it gingerly in his hands, eyes widening.

"I guarantee that you'll be the eye of the party," Ori grinned.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Dwalin said so softly, Ori almost missed it.

"A dashing man such as you?" Ori knew he was flirting and he couldn't help the coy smile as he leaned closer.  "I can only imagine the line of admirers out your door."

At this, Dwalin flushed.  Ori was starting to grow fond of that.  Dangerous, but he couldn't be bothered.

"I'm hoping to... dissuade my admirers," Dwalin said, hesitantly.  "The mask is beautiful, by the way."

"Why, thank you," Ori said.  "This is what you're paying me for so this is what I deliver."  Ori took the mask back and carefully wrapped it in paper.  "So know... admirers are rarely dissuaded unless drastic measures are taken."

"I'm aware," Dwalin took half a step closer to Ori.  "And I was hoping that you would be willing to accompany me to the ball."

Ori tried not to let the smug smile show, but judging from Dwalin's face, he wasn't entirely successful.  He turned, hands folded behind his back, confidently looking up at Dwalin.

"It would be my absolute pleasure."


	2. Water

It started with Balin signing them both up for the 5K marathon.  Dwalin never considered himself a runner, distance or otherwise.  He preferred feats of strength over speed and agility.  Give him a wrestling or boxing tournament any day.  But Balin, his ever conniving brother, insisted that a good workout was well rounded and Dwalin needed to exercise his  _stamina_.

His stamina was just fine, thank you very much.

The marathon was casual, easy even.  Run, walk, skip at your leisure and just cross the line before dark.  Dwalin had kept up a steady pace between a jog and a run.  The sun was warm, but pleasantly so, and a slight breeze blew between buildings.  The finish line was just in front of him, surrounded by supporters and victors.  Balin was off to the side, chatting with some of his friends and looking far too composed for a post 5K run image.

Dwalin shifted his gaze to the left and felt his heart leap.  A young man, maybe in his twenties, was handing out water bottles to the exhausted runners.  He was an absolute scrawny thing, with wheat colored hair and frail, freckled limbs.  Dwalin crossed the line and gingerly walked up to the water boy, who smiled brightly and slapped a bottle into Dwalin's hand.

"Good run," the man said.

"Thanks," Dwalin replied without thinking.  He twisted the cap off and took a long drink.  "Do you do this often?"

"Oh yeah," the man nodded brightly.  "Almost every race.  Most runners don't have water by the end so, here I am!  Speaking of, I gotta run."

Dwalin didn't even get his name before the man ran off, water bottles in tow.

And so, Dwalin found himself in every marathon their little city held.  And, sure as daylight, the water boy was always there at the end, handing out water with a bright smile on his face.  His name was Ori.  Dwalin wanted desperately to talk to him outside of a finish line, but he never got the chance.  Ori would hand Dwalin a bottle, offer a few sentences of conversation, then walk away.

Thorin, naturally, nagged him about it.  He was constantly on Dwalin's tail, begging for details about this mysterious Ori.  He was prepared to order a city wide search for him, to which Dwalin politely declined.  He would get his chance, he knew he would.  He just had to wait.

The last marathon of the season was a fundraiser.  Dwalin signed up without hesitation and hardly looked at the name of the race.  Some cancer patient fundraiser, it looked like.  He hardly thought twice about it, until the day came.

"Didn't think you'd sign up," Balin said as they lined up at the starting line.

"Why not?"

"I just assumed this race would be a little too close to home for you."

Dwalin looked up at the banner and really looked, instead of just glazing over it.  Plastered on the banner were the words "Riason Family Fundraiser" with a picture of a young man with wheat colored hair and freckled cheeks.  Dwalin's stomach dropped.  The hospital was only three miles away in the exact opposite direction of the marathon.  Dwalin gave it a split second of thought before turning and running the opposite direction.

It had been months since his first 5K run and, while Dwalin would never be a sprinter, he had come some distance in his running.  Gone were the days of the semi-jog.  He sprinted to the hospital, plastic number still stamped on his chest.

The receptionist gave Dwalin a strange look but directed him to Ori's room regardless.  Inside were two men, distinctly different but bearing some resemblance to each other, and Ori lying prone on the bed.  Then came the hard part.  Dwalin fumbling over his words trying to explain that no, he didn't really know Ori but yes, he cared a lot.  He was a marathon runner that had enjoyed the little blips of contact with Ori after each race.

That he wouldn't know what to do if Ori wasn't at the finish line with a water bottle.

The two men (Dori and Nori, Ori's older brothers) seemed to accept Dwalin's poor excuse of an explanation and allowed him to stay.  They told him about Ori's condition, about the cancer he'd had for years.  They talked about the chemo and the radiation and the prayers and hopes they had that it would all be okay.

Ori had wanted to be a runner until the cancer tore at his lungs and ruined his bones.  Then he fancied being a writer, weaving masterful tales to entertain generations.  With fondness in their eyes, the brothers unloaded all the weight on their shoulders to Dwalin.  They confessed their fears and worries and apologized for it.

In the course of one afternoon, Dwalin had become part of the family.

They waited.

And waited.

Then Ori opened his eyes.

Dwalin was right there, cup of water pressed against Ori's dry lips as he drank.

"Easy there," Dwalin said.  "You've been out for most of the day."

"The race," Ori rasped, hand touching the number on Dwalin's chest.  "Did you make it?"

"Turned around and ran here," Dwalin said.  "Couldn't race without my water boy there."

Ori let out a breathy chuckle at that.  His hand flailed about and grabbed Dwalin's.  His grip was weak and frail and Dwalin was worried he would crush the fragile bones if he squeezed too hard.

"Hey," Ori tugged on Dwalin's hand gently.  "If you're free tomorrow, come share lunch with me?"

"Of course."

Ori smiled to himself.  "Good."


	3. Ceremony

Ori took a deep breath.  He smoothed down his suit and straighted his tie.  The ceremony would begin soon and Ori had to look his best.  His speech was carefully folded in his chest pocket.  It had to be perfect.  It was, after all, a once in a lifetime opportunity.  Ori would die before messing it up.

Especially since Dwalin would never let him live it down.

All Ori could do was wait.  So he waited.  And waited.

Was Dwalin this nervous?  Was he sitting out there, palms sweaty and leg twitching?  And what about everyone else?  Surely Dori would be pacing if he was allowed to stand.  Nori would be drinking and his fingers would tap mindlessly on the table.

This ceremony wasn't exactly common or frequent.  The fact that Ori was part of it still gave him butterflies.  He had been waiting so long for this moment but now that it was finally here, Ori was breathless.

The door to his room opened and Balin waltzed in, practically floating on the carpet.  Ori sighed.  Balin had been his editor and mentor in those early days of writing.  Dark days of running with little sleep and too much coffee and endless lists of plot holes.

Balin was actually the reason Ori and Dwalin met.

"Are you ready?" Balin asked, the door sliding shut behind him.  "It's the big day, after all."

"I feel like I'm going to vomit," Ori said, honestly.  "This must be what Camilla felt in chapter 12."

Nonsense," Balin scoffed.  "Camilla was getting married.  This is nothing compared to her troubles."

"An awards ceremony for me," Ori deadpanned.  "A wedding would be simple compared to this."

"Has Dwalin proposed then?" Balin asked, eyes twinkling.

"No.  And I doubt he will soon."

"You never know," Balin insisted.

Ori only rolled his eyes.  Balin was a foolish, hopeless romantic and spent half of their sessions talking about potential date ideas or wedding themes.  Literally living vicariously through Ori.

There was so much terror in Ori right now he could hardly breathe.  He wanted nothing more than to curl up and give up this whole endeavor.  Forget the speech, the acceptance, forget everything except for Dwalin.

In fact, Ori had half a mind to actually leave the room, abandon this whole thing and grab Dwalin and escape.

As if sensing this, Balin reached over and grasped Ori's shoulder comfortingly.

"I know you're nervous," Balin said.  "It's going to be okay, lad.  Just go out, give your speech, take the award, and go home with Dwalin."

Ori smiled wanly.  "We'll see about that."

Taking a deep breath, Ori stepped outside and walked down the long hallway to where the ceremony was being held.  He ignored the fluttering heartbeat in his chest, the quiver in his hands, the wavering breaths from his lungs.  He stepped out in front of the crowd, made his way to the podium, and pulled out his speech.  Glancing up, Ori saw Dwalin sitting in the front row, beaming with pride.

The entire world shrank to Dwalin.  All Ori could see was Dwalin's bright face.  Any nerves that Ori had been feeling vanished within a second.  He cleared his throat and spoke.

After the speech and the pictures and handshakes, Ori slipped away from the crowd and leaned against the wall outside.  The cool air was pleasant on his flushed face and Ori let the tension fall from his shoulders.

Someone stepped up next to him and Ori didn't need to open his eyes to know who it was.

"Hello, love," Ori said.

"Good speech," Dwalin murmured, wrapping an arm around Ori.  "What say we get out of here?"

Ori turned and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Dwalin's mouth.  "I thought you'd never ask."


	4. Sharing

Dwalin crumpled the note in his hand.  He had been looking forward to a lazy Saturday with his husband but instead his meddling brother had to come and sweep Ori away.  Literally.  They had gone to some meeting somewhere about the public library.

It seemed all rather silly, in Dwalin's opinion.  Especially if Dwalin couldn't spend time with his husband.  Rolling over in his bed, Dwalin fumbled with his phone and tapped out a quick text to Ori.

_Come home, love. I miss you._

Almost instantly, there was a knock on the door.  Groaning, Dwalin hoisted himself up and dragged (literally) himself to answer it, fully intending on giving them a piece of his mind.

Only it was Dori and Nori.

"What do you want?" Dwalin asked.

"We thought we'd take you out for the day," Dori said easily.

"No."

"C'mon, man," Nori grinned.  "Ori spends all his time with you, it's not fair."

"Um, maybe that's because we're married," Dwalin said.  "I'm supposed to spend all my time with him."

"But we want to spend time with you too."

"No."

This time Dwalin shut the door and locked it.  He didn't want to do anything without his husband beside him.

It was exhausting to share his husband.

Hours later the door opened and Ori slid into bed beside Dwalin.  Dwalin didn't hesitate and pulled him in close, burying his face into Ori's shoulders.

"Never again," Dwalin muttered.  "I'm tired of having to share you with others.  Especially Balin."

"Trust me, the feeling is mutual," Ori sighed, leaning back against Dwalin.  "I think we need to have a second honeymoon.  Get away from everyone and spend time alone."

"Agreed."

"We could go on a road trip across the country," Ori continued.  "Take three weeks off and go see the sights.  Just to get away from meddling people."

"Sounds good," Dwalin nodded.  "Let's do it."


	5. Bubbles

The wedding was beautiful, of course.  Ori stood at the head of the tunnel, bubble container in hand, waiting for the happy couple to run out to the honeymoon car.  As beautiful as the wedding was, Ori was glad the whole ordeal was over.  Kili and Tauriel were a gorgeous couple, to be sure, but the family conflict had almost destroyed the wedding before it could even begin.

A huge cheer went up over the crowd and the two ran up.  Ori cheered with the best of them and blew bubbles into the warm, spring air as the couple celebrated their wedding.  Thorin and Tranduil were barely civil, on opposite sides of the massive crowd, in fact.  Still, the iridescent bubbles caught the light and Ori remembered his own wedding day.  Goodness, it felt like so long ago.

Kili and Tauriel jumped into the car, speeding away with streamers trailing behind them "Just Married!" emblazoned on the back window.  Slowly, the family started to tear down the decorations, gather wedding gifts, and collect the leftover food from the reception.  Ori didn't move, just stood in the warm sunlight, blowing bubbles into the wind.

A tall, dark figure moved towards him.  The vision was blurry from the bubbles, but Ori knew exactly who it was.

"I thought you were working!" Ori called out.

Dwalin's figure became clear as the bubbles rose into the air on a breeze.  Ori's heart rocketed into his throat and he couldn't stop the grin on his face.  So long after their wedding and he was still getting butterflies.

"Let me out early," Dwalin said simply, reaching out and tugging Ori into his arms.  "I'm sorry I missed the wedding."

"You missed all the brooding though," Ori grinned as he tangled his hands behind Dwalin's neck.  "Remember our wedding day?"

"I could never forget," Dwalin leaned down and caught Ori's lips in a soft, warm kiss.

Ori's eyes slid shut and he arched into Dwalin's body - a familiar step to the dance they've had for years.  Ever since they met on a blind date, they'd been like this (much to the chagrin of their brothers).  Bubbles fell around them and it was like Ori was a young newlywed all over again.


	6. Music

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that helped inspired this chapter is "Fool for You" by Phillip Phillips

Dwalin loved being on stage.  There was something so special and perfect about being on tour.  Standing in front of hundreds, of thousands, wanting and waiting to hear his music.  Part of it, Thorin insisted, is that they didn't look like their music.  With their long hair, tattoos, and piercings, their blend of country and pop broke all expectations.

But that was just part of their charm.  Dwalin picked up his guitar and strode onto the stage, his band mates following.

As always, the concert was a blur.  It was fast, quick, and intense.  Except for the last song.  It had become tradition, almost, to end with the first love song Dwalin had ever written.

Many admirers and media personnel had tried to figure out what prompted strong and stoic Dwalin to write a love song.  There had been many outrageous theories, ranging from an illicit relationship with a groupie to a long-lost childhood love.  Dwalin had laughed each of them off with Thorin.  No one had ever come close to understanding exactly who Dwalin had fallen for.

There had been only one person that ever made Dwalin feel like a fool.  Only one person who Dwalin would give anything for.  From the first time they met, Dwalin the bumbling fool, flustered and unable to find words, to now - he'd been the only one to ever hold Dwalin's heart.  As the music started and the fans started cheering, Dwalin's thoughts turned to his love.

He would be backstage with a proud smile on his face.  There would be fan meetings, signings, and a careful drive back to the hotel.  Then, far away from prying eyes, Dwalin would have Ori in his arms again.  The only inspiration Dwalin ever needed for his music.


	7. Laughter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been haunting me, so I pushed out these last three chapters in record time (hence the shortness of them) and so I can start writing some drabbles for the third annual week.

That was how it started.  Dwalin had laughed at something Fili and Kili did and Ori fell a little bit in love with it.  It wasn't often one heard soldiers laughing and Ori intended to remember this one moment forever.

Then the laughter increased.  Ori giggled at Dwalin's little jokes and Dwalin laughed when Ori's sass grew strong.  Their friends and family laughed when they announced they were courting.  There was laughter in Erebor when the wedding took place.

When the children started coming, Ori's scribe students and Dwalin's recruits, the laughter kept on coming.

"Master Ori!  Zyer is puling my hair!"

"I am not!" Zyer instantly protested, sticking her tongue out.  "It's not my fault Rhis can't write!"

"You're not even a good soldier!" Thoer butted in.

"Alright, children!" Ori shouted over the noise.

Instantly, there was silence.  The table was filled with dwarves of all ages and all apprenticeships, a mix of Ori's students and Dwalin's recruits.  By some strange miracle, this had become Ori's family.  A collection of orphans and apprentices from all across Erebor were seated as his dinner table, waiting to be fed.  Ori wanted to laugh at the incredulous nature of this.

They looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes that Ori knew better than to believe.  Dwalin was a sucker for the big, wide eyes, but Ori could hold his ground.  It had been like this for years.  Dwalin and Ori weren't blessed with children of their own, but this was enough.  Their home was known across the city as a safe haven for runaways and orphans.  Through all their years together, Dwalin and Ori were never lonely.

"Dori and Nori are coming to visit," Ori said.  "And we know what Dori brings when he visits."

"Cake!" cried out little Miris from the back.  "Big chocolate cake with strawberries!"

"And who gets to eat that cake, Miris?" Dwalin asked as he burst through the door.

"Sir!" Zyer stood up along with the rest of the recruits.

"Zyer, what have I told you?" Dwalin dropped his armor and weapons and came up to his oldest recruit, ruffling her orange hair.  "In this house, I'm not your Captain."

"Right, sorry, sir," Zyer blushed and sat down.

"Now, I'm sure Ori made a great dinner for us, right my love?"

"Of course," Ori tipped his head up to accept Dwalin's kiss, ignoring the catcalls from the table.

There were some things that never changed.  Dwalin grabbed Ori and dipped him theatrically backwards, giving him a deep, certainly breath-catching kiss, had Ori not been laughing the entire time.


End file.
